I jerked upright and Sumi flew halfway across the room. She yowled mid-air before twisting around, her instincts kicking in and landing her deftly on the carpet. Her hackles raised as she scanned the room for threats, hissing while her eyes darted across the dark. I got out of bed to pick her up, shushing her and smoothing out her coat. “It’s okay, it's okay. We’re not in danger.”

Slowly, her heart rate dropped again and she looked up at me, meowing inquisitively. I sighed. “Sorry. More nightmares.” She calmed down and started purring quietly, and I put her back on the bed. My alarm was ten minutes from going off, and I pocketed my phone before going to the bathroom and washing my face. After a few splashes of cold water I sighed, drying off and looking at my reflection in the mirror. 

The bags under my eyes hadn’t gotten any better, and I sighed as I forced a smile and put on my customer service face. Good enough. My jacket went around my knife and gun to hide them before going into my bag with my water bottle. I checked myself in the mirror to make sure I was presentable before making my way down the stairs.

When I got to the store I opened up as usual, but after an hour or two I noticed some shouting nearby. I ignored it at first, but as time ticked by and the noise didn’t seem to go down. I put my phone down and started paying closer attention, and after a bit I realised that I hadn’t seen a single person walk by. There was, however, what seemed like a small crowd just within view. Oh, so somebody’s being an obstacle are they?

The man was standing on not one but two beer crates, which was mildly impressive since it looked like a strong wind would send him bowling over. A shirt with marker scribbled over it read HUMAN RIGHTS FOR HUMAN LIVES, a crude sign with a cross drawn over a ghoul’s red and black eyes by his feet as he shouted to his small audience. “WE MUST PROTECT OUR RIGHTS! THESE MURDERERS BELONG IN COFFINS, NOT IN OUR INSTITUTIONS! NOT IN OUR SCHOOLS! WE-!”

“Hey jackass! Why don’t you pick a public park or somewhere a bit less obstructive to cry and whine about it?”

Everyone turned to look at me, and though I tensed slightly I kept my expression cold and firm. Crata pays me well for how little I’m doing every day, I might as well put in a bit of effort here. “There are a dozen businesses on this street, and not one of them are getting a single customer while you’re out here screaming like a madman. If you really care so much about human lives, try not to disrupt our livelihoods while you’re at it.”

Nobody seemed very pleased with me, but they were a bit cowed. All except for shortstack compensator, whose face went even redder. “This sidewalk is public property, and I’m spreading truth about human rights! You’re a selfish little brat who’s more worried about your bottom line than human lives!”

I crossed my arms. Let’s go with non-omission. “This shop I’m working at is owned by a sweet old lady who’s husband passed away five years ago. Her children are all overseas, she’s got nobody helping her out here; I’m just trying to make sure her business doesn’t get shafted by you camping out on the sidewalk and scaring people away. I’m not going to debate you, or agree with you, or pick apart your arguments; all I want is for you to move this somewhere else…….unless you’ve already been banned from those types of public places.”

He wasn’t exactly adept at hiding his emotions and I shook my head as he started spewing excuses. “Someone like you probably can’t afford another run-in with the cops, so why don’t you just pack it up and we can both avoid the hassle that’ll come with it?”

I reached for my phone and he jumped into his crowd, pushing and shoving as he scurried down the street. …well, that was easier than I was expecting. I sighed and massaged the back of my neck. “Alright everybody, show’s over; we’ve got bottled water and painkillers if the heat’s getting to you.”

Most of them scowled at me and walked off, but a few did come inside to buy something since they were already there. I didn’t bring up the man or his campaigning again, but even after the last person from his audience left I caught myself dwelling on the issue during the quiet periods without customers. I shouldn’t really be surprised; it’s a complicated issue.

With two different species that each had their own unique set of problems, it should have been expected that no one solution would make both parties happy. Ghouls fear humans because humans have the numbers advantage, having to hide in the shadows. Humans fear ghouls because ghouls eat humans to survive, with physical abilities that would instantly kill the average person.

From a legality standpoint makes sense to give ghouls human rights, though perhaps the term ‘people’ or ‘person’ would be more accurate to encompass both species. Problem is, until the majority of ghouls become legal with Goat that’s’ gonna be a bit prickly. As I saw it, therein lay the problem; joining Goat had as many downsides as it did benefits. No surprise that most ghouls have opted not to join Goat and go legal, not when it paints a different kind of target on your back.

Crata arrived a little bit later, and since she didn’t seem aware of what had happened I decided not to say anything. After work I changed into something a bit more casual and took a jog around the Ward, lapping the park a few times and passing the residential area twice. Since nothing seems to be going down at the moment I should start searching; the ghouls in charge might not take well to my sudden appearance, but the benefits outweigh the risk; I need info, and it’d be nice to know that they won’t try to kill me while I’m here.

There were a few subtle signs to look for in a ghoul hideout; clean dumpsters tucked away at the back, cameras or security out front, multiple exits, the works. That club might be a front, but I’d need to wait for nightfall for a better look. Those warehouse guards are armed, but not very dangerous. With that in mind, I should probably think about a less passive approach.

I stopped by a community center to take a drink, leaning against the wall. Avoiding combat is my priority, but if it comes down to a fight it pays to be prepared. I was itching to sprint full speed, and I had to tamp down the urge as I sighed. My combat style is long- to mid-range. I mostly took those gymnastics lessons out of boredom, and though they did give me some skills I can use close range it won’t be enough to deal with the quinxes. If I want to counter any of the Quinxes long enough to escape, I need- Something flapped in the wind on the wall opposite me, and I straightened. …well, something like that.

After a few moments of internal debate, I snapped a photo of the poster. Not like I’ve got much to lose in trying. I went to the Ward’s border looking for the address, stopping a few times to ask for directions. After a few minutes I came upon a middle class neighbourhood, coming to a stop in front of an ordinary looking apartment building. This must be the place. I counted five doors down on the second floor and rang the doorbell, and after a few moments a well-built American maybe five years older than me opened the door. He smiled. “Hello there little guy. Looking for something?”

I held up my phone with the photo of the flyer. “Would this be yours?”

He nodded. “You interested then?”

I nodded. “How big are the class sizes?”

He chuckled sheepishly. “Uh, you’re actually the first person to come asking about it. But that’s not super important; are you thinking of going into competitive fencing? Or is it more of a hobby? Live action role-play? Reenactments? History fan?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Impressing a girl? Actually, come to think of it, shouldn’t you be in school?”

I pocketed my phone. “Yeah, no. First of all, I’m working a full-time job. Second, I’m Ace.”

He paused for a moment, brow furrowing. “ ‘Ace’?”

I waited patiently as the gears turned in his head, maintaining a neutral expression. Then his eyes widened. “……oh.” He smiled. “Oh. You’re one of us!”

I raised an eyebrow. “One of….?”

He ushered me inside, closing the door and going into a storage room. “It’s so nice to see young ones like you out and about and unabashed, I was worried all of that Hetero supremecy everywhere would scare your generation into the closet! I’m Albert, and I’m Bisexual.”

I scoffed lightly. “ ‘One of us’? We’re queer, not an archaic sub-branch of Christianity from mediaeval France.”

He laughed as he carried a pair of large duffel bags out of the storage room, setting them down on the table in the living room. “You sound just like my niece! Let’s see, you’re a bit thin for your age……try this on for me will ya?” He grabbed some more gear from the bag and then headed out the door again, taking out a set of keys and unlocking the adjacent apartment. “I own the entire building you see, I kept these two for myself. Come on in, we can talk prices and lesson times while getting dressed.”

I followed him inside and closed the door, opening the calendar on my phone. “I have work from Monday to Friday, so Saturdays and Sundays are probably better-”

Albert had already stripped to his underwear, exposing his muscled torso. When he noticed I’d stopped talking he looked up. “Hm?”

I cleared my throat and looked away politely. “Sorry, I just…….I’d rather change in the other room if that’s okay with you.”

He cracked a smile. “No worries. Just yell if it doesn’t fit.”

I carried the gear into the other room and got changed. He certainly seems nice enough, but ultimately not an intellectual. I believe the term is ‘himbo’. I headed back into the bare living room and he smiled, tossing me a mask. “Alright, so; Saturdays and Sundays?”

I nodded. “How long would these lessons normally last?”

“I normally make that call after assessing your initial skills, but given your build….probably two hours.”

Hm. I don’t want him getting suspicious, but that’s not great. “How’s pricing?”

“12,000 per lesson.”

I nodded. “Okay then.”

He smiled. “Excellent! Alright, introduction first. Fencing is a sport that focuses on skill and speed rather than power. Power and strength are useful, but without skill and speed you won’t do very well. There are three fencing styles: Epee, Foil and Sabre. In Epee and Foil, only hits on the blade point are counted. Foil is a lighter and faster fencing style, but you can only target the torso and groin areas for a hit. In Epee, the entire body is a target. I teach Sabre, where hits are counted along both point and edge. Any hit above the waist is counted, including the arms and head. So, let’s get started. Hold the fencing sabre like this, firm but not stiff.”

I copied his grasp and he nodded. “Alright, there are two ceremonial steps to go through before a bout: the Salute and the Guard Check. You check your guard against your opponents like this, pressing your sabre against the blade until it begins to bend.” I copied his movement, bending the practice sabre against his guard before withdrawing the blade. “Good, now the Salute.” He held the blade so it was in front of his face, straight up and parallel with himself. I did the same, and he nodded. “Alright, let’s start you practicing on a dummy.”

He reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a mannequin with circles and numbers on it, standing it up in front of me. “Alright, the way this works is that when I call out a number you need to find it and strike the area with your blade. Accuracy and speed are key here, but first we’ll start slow. You ready?” I nodded, and he pulled a stopwatch from his pocket. “Alright……Five!” Left elbow.

The tip of the sabre darted in and out, striking the very edge of the circle.  “Twelve!” Chest. The end struck the top of the number 1 in the circle, and I frowned. My accuracy isn’t good. “Eight!” Hit. “Thirteen!” Hit. “One!” Miss. “Three!” Barely missed. “Five!” Hit.

He stopped calling and I sighed, removing the mask. Can’t see with this stupid thing on. At least my mask has proper eyeholes. I glanced at Albert, who was looking at the stopwatch. “You’re……fast. Very fast for someone your age. Accuracy needs a bit of work, but that’s easily remedied. You might be ready to start actual fencing sessions as early as two lessons.”

I stared at him. “Really?”

He came over and adjusted my grip, nudging my feet to the left a bit. “You’re bending your wrist, it’s not a huge issue but it’s better to stop before you develop a habit. You should widen your stance a bit as well, try to relax your legs. When you strike, parry or dodge you should do it fluidly with the use of your whole body. Let’s try that one more time before we work on your accuracy.”